


"Death of A Bachelor"

by WickedGoodBooks



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Indian food, Modern AU, the bachelor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedGoodBooks/pseuds/WickedGoodBooks
Summary: ᴏɴᴇ-sʜᴏᴛ ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ 'ᴏɴᴇ ϙᴜᴏᴛᴇ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 2' ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪsᴇᴅ ʙʏ @ʙᴀʟғᴇʜᴇᴜɢʜʟʏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ @ɴᴏᴛᴇᴠᴇɴᴊᴏᴋɪɴɢғɪᴄ.“Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ I’ᴠᴇ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏᴍᴇɴ, Sᴀssᴇɴᴀᴄʜ, ɪs ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ.”Jᴀᴍɪᴇ ᴀɴᴅ Cʟᴀɪʀᴇ sᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ Tʜᴇ Bᴀᴄʜᴇʟᴏʀ.





	"Death of A Bachelor"

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it’s reaaaally good to be back!  
Thesis is done and officially submitted, tendons somewhat restored to their normal, not-so-painful existence.  
Downhill will be back soon, until then, please enjoy this short one shot based on the above mentioned quote
> 
> oh, and because it's come up in the comments - I have never seen The Bachelor myself, this is just based on second-hand experiences :D

“**Death of a Bachelor**”

The sound of rapid footfalls on the staircase outside made Claire’s ears perk up. Turning the volume of the TV down, she strained to listen more closely. _Was it him or the obnoxious cross-fit enthusiast from 2 floors up?_ The clinking of metal against the door answered her question before the key even turned in the lock.

“Welcome home, babe,” she called over her shoulder as the door opened and a very large man burst in.

“Sae sorry I’m late, Sassenach,” Jamie panted, broad chest heaving visibly, as he toed off his brogues and shrugged out of the dove-grey coat in the middle of their living room. He bent to kiss her crown. “How much have I missed?”

“Just about half of the recap from last week,” Claire informed him from her perch on the couch, amber eyes focused on the obscenely large flat-screen TV as she patted his scruffy cheek in welcome. The bloody man had been right, it had been a fantastic investment. While it was admittedly a bit decadent to watch _The Bachelor_ on a 60” screen, Claire couldn’t deny that she loved it. Not that she would give her boyfriend the satisfaction of admitting it in front of him anytime soon. She’d never hear the end of it.

“Good,” he heaved a sigh of relief as he loosened the light blue tie around his neck. “I’ll be right back. Make some room fer me, aye?”

With another kiss placed atop the mass of brown curls that were half-heartedly contained in a messy bun, Jamie turned to their bedroom, when her slightly distracted voice stopped him, “Where are you going?”

“Tae change, mo nighean donn,” he responded while stretching himself, exposing a tiny flash of skin where the buttons of his shirt were drawn taut in the process of relieving some of the physical tension induced by a desk job. “I cannae enjoy the show when I feel like I’m still at the office.”

“I got that, but there’s no need to leave the room.”

The tired lines around his eyes faded as the wide mouth curved into a smirk, “Weel, I ken ye enjoy me in the altaegether, Sassenach, but I have no intention o’ ruining our new couch wi’ my day’s worth o’ sweat. And as it seems that ye’re monopolising the blanket again,” he pointed a slightly accusing index finger at the cosy fabric wrapped around Claire’s middle, “I’ll have tae put on some shorts at least.”

After shaking her head slightly at her loveable dork, Claire made a grab for Jamie’s outstretched hand and laid it on the armrest of the sofa where a fresh change of comfy clothes was waiting for him, “If you’d care to take a closer look before insulting my purely innocent motives, Mr. Fraser, I’m sure you’d notice that you’ve got everything you need right here.”

“Purely innocent, aye?” the smirk widened into a dazzling grin.

“One hundred percent,” she asserted, turning her attention back on the screen, her fingers forming air quotes, “‘_No funny business during The Bachelor’_, remember? That was _your_ rule, if I recall correctly.”

“Mhmphm,” came the thoroughly Scottish reply. James Fraser knew when he was beat. He had proposed that rule for a reason after all –neither of them wanted to miss out on any of the juicy bits of the show. The first time they had watched it together seemed so far away now, even if it was only 2 years. It had been their fifth date, and the first at her flat. Having agreed on a lazy night with takeout and a movie, they had zapped aimlessly through the TV channels instead of perusing what Netflix had to offer after realising that the internet wasn’t ever likely to start working again until the ancient modem was replaced with a newer model. For some reason, they had stopped at _The Bachelor_, not really intending to pay any attention to it; nonetheless, finding themselves thoroughly invested. They were quickly picking favourites, betting on who would be sent home that night, and moving closer to each other without really noticing –until Claire had almost ended up in his lap.

It had been the first night they spent together.

“What did ye say, Sassenach?”

“I said ‘get changed and seat your sweet ginger bum down here next to me’,” she smiled and patted the sofa with a pale, graceful hand.

“Yer wish is my command, Sassenach.”

Having been focused only on making it home in time for their shared favourite guilty pleasure, Jamie had not only overlooked the shirt and sweats she had lain out for him, but also the takeout boxes and drinks arranged on the coffee table. The bright orange logo on the carton was indicator enough to know that she had gotten him his usual order from their favourite Indian restaurant –green beef curry, with carrots instead of chickpeas, and extra naan. His mouth began to water at the memory of that heavenly smell of roasted garlic.

From the corner of his eye Jamie watched Claire lift the lid off one of the boxes, releasing a waft of spicy steam into her face, making her do that little nose scrunch he loved so much. A warmth bloomed in his chest at the realisation that she had obviously waited so they could have dinner together –the considerate gesture all the more worth knowing that she had been elbow-deep in someone’s guts for the better part of the day.

As Jamie continued undressing right next to the couch, his dark blue eyes glued to the screen with as much interest as Claire’s, she stole a glance or two at the curly hair coming into view when the crisp white twill fabric of his dress shirt parted from his chest. Usually she would take much more time to appreciate his well-toned physique ,but not when it was _Bachelor_ time and there was Indian food to be had.

“Goddamn commercials, the show hasnae even started properly!” the annoyed exclamation cut through Claire’s silent admiration of hot bodies and hot food.

“Not like there’s anything we can do about it,” she shrugged, pouring mango lassi into two glasses.

“Weel,” Jamie began, his tone still carrying a tinge of irritation at the untimely manner of TV advertisements, “if there’s naught tae be seen yet, I’m going tae take a pish and wash my oxters at least. That new deodorant ye got me doesnae work, by the way. I smell like – “

“An ox?” she interjected helpfully, whisky eyes creased with amusement.

For a second, Jamie stared at her with an unreadable expression, then said, “Fer that alone ye’d deserve having yer face rubbed wi’ it, Sassenach.”

“But you love me and would never do such a disgusting thing to me,” she chirped, feeling safe enough to tease him a bit more as she ripped off a chunk of the flat bread.

“Ye ken I would, ye’re just lucky it’s Bachelor night and I dinnae want tae miss any o’ it,” Jamie ribbed and vanished into the bathroom.

He returned two minutes later, feeling almost like a completely different man in fresh clothing –even if he was still a bit muskier than he would have liked. Sinking into the cushions next to his favourite Englishwoman, Jamie sighed into her long, slender neck to greet her properly, “Hi.”

She turned to him, whispering a soft, garlicky “Hi, babe,” against his lips.

Parting from each other’s lips was –as always– a rather difficult endeavour, since the promise of something more lingered tantalisingly in the space between them. _Later_, they communicated with just a glance before shifting their gazes back to the goings-on on the screen.

“Lord, it feels sae good tae be home,” Jamie was yawning so widely his jaw cracked. “Did ye have a good day, mo chridhe?”

Mouth full of spicy chicken tikka, Claire smiled a bit tiredly at him and nodded in answer, handing him his curry and a spoon. Swallowing, she was able to elaborate a bit more, “The surgery went really well. No complications, fortunately. And I like the new nurse, I think she’s a great replacement for Glenna.” Taking another spoonful of the spicy dish balanced in her lap, Claire moaned with pleasure, “This is _so_ bloody good.”

“Aye, it is,” Jamie agreed with a look of pure contentment on his face as he dug into his own meal.

“How did your proposal go?”

“No’ sae bad, I think,” he said between bites, “but ye ken Sandringham, he isnae one tae show his cards right away. I’ll maybe ken wi’in the month if I’m lucky.” Truth be told, there wasn’t any rational justification Jamie could think of why his boss would not sign off on the idea. Cutting printing costs by simply using a different font could save the publishing house millions in the long run.

“At least he didn’t reject the idea outright. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” Claire asked, handing him another naan.

“We’ll see,” with a shrug of his shoulder, the topic of work was dismissed for the evening. “Ah, finally! Commercial break is over, turn the volume up, would ye, Sassenach?”

She handed Jamie the remote to set the volume to his liking while taking a gulp of the lassi to wash down some of the lingering hotness.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Claire set the glass back down and settled back into the comfy blanket nest she had built herself –ready for the show.

Slurping the last of his curry down, Jamie made himself comfortable, feet dangling off one end of the couch, head in Claire’s lap. Automatically, her hands went to stroke his hair, moving in soft, soothing motions over his scalp. Jamie sighed happily, taking one of her hands to kiss her palm before shifting his gaze back to the telly.

“D’ye think he’s going tae mix up their names again?”

“I’d say there’s a high probability of that. There are still twenty in the race and the poor man really isn’t good with names,” the chuckle rippled through her body to his.

“Nah, he really isnae,” Jamie agreed, snorting with amusement at the memory of the slick protagonist calling the wrong woman to receive her rose because he’d confused her name with another candidate’s –an incident that would go down in infamous TV history.

“Name tags would come in handy,” Claire mused, curling the hair at his nape around her finger. “I mean, can you imagine meeting 24 people all at once? How is anyone supposed to remember _all_ their names without messing up? With the added pressure of the whole affair being televised no less.”

“Weel, it’s no’ that difficult, really.”

“Only because _you_ have a freakish memory, James Fraser. Us mortals find it a tad more difficult.”

“Is that so?” he smirked up at her. Seeing her raised eyebrows, he held up his hands in a mollifying gesture, “Awright, I ken, ‘no funny business and no _unnecessary_ talking’ during _The Bachelor_.”

An hour of more or less exciting first-date experiences of one slightly narcissistic man with five different women somewhere in the South of Europe interlaced with intense fake emotional background stories, plus three commercial breaks later, Claire and Jamie found themselves staring uncomprehendingly at their TV.

“I can’t believe that idiot let Anna and Amy go!” Claire exclaimed, face flushed with outrage, “Those were the only two that were not just there for five minutes of fame.”

Jamie got up, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked towards their bedroom, “I dinnae understand it either.”

“Why are we even watching this stupid show?” she asked, gesticulating angrily with her hands.

“Because for whatever reason, Sassenach, we love it,” Jamie replied to her rhetorical question in a matter-of-fact kind of way as he re-entered the living room, “Turning our brains off, wi’ no need tae think, listening tae bitty gossip and petty rivalries, betting on who’s going tae take him home… entertainment doesnae always have tae be educational, aye?”

“Well I’m glad you’re able to justify our poor taste in evening entertainment,” Claire huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Weel, even if it isnae the most worthwhile programme, I’d argue that it has _some_ educational merit,” something in his tone caught her attention, but not enough to tear her frustrated gaze from the screen. 

“You would?”

“Aye,” Claire could sense him approaching her from behind, “_The Bachelor_ has taught me something verra important about women, actually.”

“And what on earth would _that_ be?” a note of irritation crept into her question as she finally turned to face him.

“The most important thing I’ve learned about women, Sassenach,” Jamie paused for emphasis, “is which one to choose.” His eyes locked on hers as he produced a scarlet rose from behind his back with his right hand and opened his other palm to present her with a simple, diamond-studded ring, “Will ye marry me?”

Her mouth opened in surprise as she took him in –standing tall behind the couch with unveiled emotion in his deep-blue eyes, a smile that tried to cover his nerves, and the promise of a future sitting in his hand.

It should frighten her, she thought. To have no doubt, no nagging glimmer of uncertainty about this, about _him_ –but she didn’t. There was no need to ask for time to ‘think about it’, no need to weigh the pros and cons, no need for soul-searching to find the right answer.

Her response came as naturally as breathing. “Yes,” she said, voice filled with love, “Yes, Jamie, I’ll marry you.”


End file.
